it’s not as bad as you think
To alleviate some of my anxiety regarding my studies I have done some simple calculations. To climb out of the hole I’ve engineered for myself all that is required is a daily output of 1000 words.
If I maintain this rate for the duration of January I have absolutely no need to panic.
1000 words.
Sport
Miscellaneous
Me
Here are my resolutions:
1. Don’t repeat the mistakes I made in 2008.
2. Exercise.
The year ahead neatly falls into two halves. Until June (and graduation) my life is very much following prescribed programme of studying albeit with occasional interludes. From June onwards I enter into the unknown; life beyond university with its taxes, housing crises, Machiavellian managers, working lunches and Windsor knots (maybe not).
The BBC news review of the year was thoroughly depressing. I don’t think I’ll give you mine. Suffice to say the highs were high, the lows hurt and the rest was, well, soon to be forgotten.
It is 2009. Happy New Year.
Sometimes the gaps in conversations speak loudest. I find it is only with people that I really know well that I can comfortably be silent with.
There is something quite liberating about companions that never say anything. I think that’s why people keep fish.
Awkward silences however-and many silences are awkward- really grate me. It is rarely obvious when exactly a silence is intentional, chiming peace and contentment, or, simply room to breathe before the babble ensues.
Next time you see me trapped in a silence, please, assure me it’s ok. But think twice before offering to fill it. Thank you.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.
-Simon and Garfunkel
This page is suffering from neglect. I don’t like letting it stagnate so I have two options; kill it completely or start writing again.
Recently I have had other things on my mind-too many other things. But, this weekend, for the first time in a month or so I’ve started arranging my thoughts into blog posts again.
Having had this break it seems like a good time to check how I’m doing with my goals for the academic year:-
-Still possible, slightly off the pace-expect a flurry of short, awful posts in May.
-On Friday I somehow got two A5’s. ‘Shocked’ dosen’t do it justice (though ’scrape’ does come to mind). Greater application required.
-My favourite form of procrastination. Nothing concrete yet but watch this space.
-Disaster. Couldn’t be doing worse if I tried. FIFA is not a sport.
-Nothing yet, the immenent holidays might be my best bet.
Not yet.
Not tent season.
Doing ok. Room for improvement.
Not even once.
Hard to measure. Hard to do.
Yes! Once! It wasn’t easy, but boy was it worth it.
I’ve read at least three that fall into the ‘proper’ category.
Not exactly a proper goal-I can’t tick it off yet.
Going by my progress thus far I can reasonably expect to have completed 4-5 of my 13 goals by graduation.
Abysmal.
My flatmate just gave me a video he made in 2005, the rather dull clip below is an extract from it. I, for one, found it pretty excruciating viewing. It is very strange to look back at oneself looking forward.
Having said all that, dosen’t my hair look brilliant?
I am a pessimist. I am Scottish. It’s cold outside.
These ingredients contribute to my ability to wallow in a good sulk even without anything worth sulking about. Such bouts of moroseness strike me three to four times a year and feature symptoms of unhelpful thinking (regrets, stale memories), limited productivity and a tendency to stare blankly in a glaikit fashion. They (the sulks) are a wholly foolish and unattractive venture. I can’t help but feel that only as a student I have the time to indulge in them.
And they all pretend they’re orphans and their memory’s like a train,
You can see it getting smaller as it pulls away.
And the things you can’t remember tell the things you can’t forget,
That history puts a saint in every dream.
-Tom Waits
I just ran out into the rain and went to the shops.
The street was dark and wet; the shop was sterile and bland.
I bought eight rolls of toilet paper for £1.98.
Sometimes I feel like I could turn my whole life into a series of blog posts. Thankfully I don’t; it would be dull to write and tragic to read. Written words can offer something, sometimes, that can be beautiful and powerful or in some other way affecting. I however, have noticed that I have a tendency to fill my mind with cheap, wasteful words. I’ll read anything. Notable suppliers of intellectual junk food include Facebook, the BBC’s website, sky sports news, Glasgow University Guardian, the Times, my blog stats, my university email account, Wikipedia and most recently (and bizarrely) the Architects Journal. These prove invaluable in the winning of pub quizes but in regard to any other facet of life, rather less helpful.
Action is being taken. Facebook has been given the heave-ho. The BBC/Sky/Times sport axis of distraction is next on the list. Alternative reading materials have been sourced.
Last week was Pride and Prejudice. This week (realistically, this month) I’m reading Crime and Punishment before moving on to some Mark Twain. Beyond that suggestions are welcome.
What is the best thing you’ve read recently?
Have you ever been in the presence of a genius?
The term ‘genius’, like the terms ‘legend’ and ‘hero’, is sullied by the fate of being frequently misappropriated for day to day use. In 2008 ‘genius’, is anyone or anything displaying even a semi-notable degree of aptitude, wit or originality. It’s a throw away compliment, a less than super superlative.
I find in life I am frequently talking to people who are smarter than me. Every time I study, I come across the work of people, who are that bit quicker, sharper and intelligent; who know how to think thoughts and record them using long words like ‘polemic’ or ‘diatribe’. Nevertheless, every so often you come across people whose work speaks louder than mere bookish cleverness or gnarled wisdom. They wrong foot the textbook and convention and occasionally karate kick Crystal Palace fans.
It is like waking up in a barbed wire canoe on a piranha infested river with nothing but a tennis racquet for a paddle.
Depending on your perspective I have either just described recent developments for the global economy, the process of writing my dissertation or Bear Grylls’ summer holiday.
